And the Beat Goes On by Nathan Rosen
	"Freddy!" whined Sunflower. "Gimme that roach!" In the driver's seat, Fat Freddy dodged Sunflower's grasping hands long enough to take one last hit off the dwindling joint before passing it over. Sunflower inhaled the smoke deeply and gratefully. Freddy and Sunflower were the only ones awake as the bus rolled down the dark interstate. Behind them, Claude and Mary dozed in an intoxicated haze, nestled in each other's arms. The upholstery reeked with the mingled scents of marijuana and patchouli. On the radio, Superman and Green Lantern had nothing on Donovan. "I'm hungry," Freddy pronounced. Sunflower giggled. "You're always hungry!" She laughed at her own observational wit. "No, I'm serious," protested Freddy. "If I don't get something to eat soon, I'm gonna waste away." To illustrate his point, he rubbed his massive belly, which strained against the fabric of his dingy tie-dyed T-shirt. "And anyway, I'm driving, so we're gonna stop and get a bite if I say so. " Sunflower leaned over the seat. "Good morning, starshine! Fat Freddy says we're stopping to eat." Claude yawned as he extracted himself from Mary's embrace. "Groovy, man. I'm starving. I was just dreaming that I was hugging these two giant marshmallows..." He pawed at Mary's chest. Mary slapped him. "Where are we going to find food this time of night?" Mary mumbled, straightening her granny glasses. Fat Freddy pointed at the glowing lights of a gas station. "Check it out, ladies and germs. Zion, the Promised Land." At the gas station convenience store, Dre the night cashier could barely believe his eyes. He'd seen pictures of Volkswagen buses before, but couldn't recall ever seeing one in person, least of all one painted from top to bottom with psychedelic swirls of color. It was a real live hippie bus, just like the one his parents had ridden around in before he was born. It rattled to a halt in the empty parking lot, and the doors swung open. The bus's four occupants emerged and stretched their limbs in the cool night air. Dre knew without a doubt that these were no poseurs on their way to a retro costume party. They were the real thing. He stared up at Claude, nearly seven feet tall with a beard and hair down to his waist. He tried to avoid looking too obviously at Mary's white peasant blouse, which barely restrained her earth-mother bosom. He grinned. "Man, you guys are awesome. Keeping the dream alive! You guys look like you walked right out of 1967!" The four looked at him with uncomprehending bloodshot eyes. Dre stammered. "Um, I mean, it's 2006 now. You don't see a lot of hippies around anymore." Fat Freddy cut him off. "We're hungry." Dre's grin returned. "I bet you are. The hot food is down for the night, but help yourself to whatever we got. Pringles, Doritos... I think I saw a box of Abba Zabbas around somewhere..." Sunflower stepped around the tie-dyed behemoth that was Fat Freddy, and shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, man. You seem real hip and all, but we're hungry." Her fangs extended as she advanced on the cashier. They drank only enough to sate their hunger. The boy would wake up with a headache in three or four hours, and if he was lucky he'd find the fat joint that Sunflower slipped into his pocket. If he smoked it while his blood was still low, he'd get a high like never before. The foursome passed a bowl around as they drove away. A stray thought found itself at the surface of Claude's smoke-filled brain. "Did that cat say it wasn't 1967 anymore?" He took another hit off the pipe. Mary shook her head. "No, man. He said it was two thousand something." Claude pondered this. Only one suitable response came to mind. "Far out." And the bus drove through the night. On the radio, the beat went on.
	Copyright © 2006 Nathan Rosen